I Don't Believe You
by TwilightMomofTwo
Summary: Disillusioned with his nagging wife. Fed up with her forgetful husband. Their fights are frequent, their only saving grace the passion they share in the bedroom. Can this marriage be saved? AH, Entry for Black Balloon Contest, collab w/ConfettiRainfall


**The Black Balloon Contest**

**Title: **I Don't Believe You

**Your pen name: **TwilightMomofTwo and Confetti Rainfall

**Characters: **Edward and Bella

**Disclaimer: **The Twilight Saga and all related characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. We don't own Edward though we would certainly like to. We both own a copy of the New Moon DVD. Not quite the same.

The song that inspired this piece of fanfiction is also not ours. It belongs to Pink who sings it so beautifully.

**To see other entries in the Black Balloon Contest, please visit the C2 page: http://www[.]fanfiction[.]net/c2/78669/3/0/1/ **(remember to remove the brackets around the dots)

**Author's Note:** Yep, me again. And Confetti Rainfall who has fast become my favorite writing buddy. And my only writing buddy thus far. I just love working with the girl. So, this is another oneshot, and as far as I'm concerned, it'll stay a oneshot. The song "I don't believe you" that I listened to on repeat while writing this, is available on YouTube among other places. Check out the lyrics - they're killer!

Rated MA/NC-17 for coarse language and lemon. Go read something else if you're underage.

On with the story. Enjoy!

ooo~~~~~~~ooo

_I don't mind it, __I still don't mind at all._

_It's like one of those bad dreams __when you can't wake up._

_Looks like you've given up, __you've had enough,_

_but I want more, __no, I won't stop,_

_cuz I just know __you'll come around._

_Right?_

Pink - I don't believe you

* * *

"Damn it, Edward!" Bella yelled. "I asked you for one thing and you forgot? Again?"

"It's no big deal, babe...I'll go back out after dinner, all right?"

"No, it's not all right. I just can't rely on you for anything, can I?" Bella sneered. "I might as well take care of everything myself."

With that parting shot, she stormed towards their bedroom, the scowl still distorting her face as she slammed the door behind her. Several of the framed pictures on the wall swayed, the largest, their wedding picture, crashing to the floor, shards of glass scattering everywhere. Edward looked at the shattered pieces, reflecting on the similarities between the broken picture and the chaos of his own year-old marriage.

When had everything gotten so out of control?

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeply as he attempted to control his rage. He _hated_ these fights and didn't understand why his wife became such an unreasonable bitch _every single time_ he didn't do exactly what she'd asked. He was her husband, not her errand boy. So he forgot to stop by the store before coming home. So what? What did a fucking gallon of milk matter in the grand scheme of things?

He shook his head as his anger continued to bubble to the surface. He could not remember his own parents ever fighting, and _his_ childhood home had been filled with the love and care of his mother, and the encouraging support of his father. He had been happy growing up.

Thinking of the years he and Bella had dated, he realized he should have seen the warning signs. Bella had always been very opinionated, outspoken and even spoiled. She was used to getting her way. She was an only child, an extremely demanding one at that, and as he reflected on several conversations with her father, he should have realized what was coming and run for the hills.

"_I can see you love her," Bella's father said. "I hope that's enough."_

"_Sir?" Edward didn't understand what Charlie was insinuating._

"_In case you haven't noticed, she can be quite a handful."_

"_Yes, sir." Edward had seen Bella a few times when she hadn't gotten her way. It wasn't a pretty sight._

"_Well, consider yourself warned," Charlie chuckled darkly._

Edward let out an exasperated sigh. Dinner was ruined, the floor was a mess and Bella was still holed up in their room. He thought about cleaning up the mess on the floor but then decided against it. Let her see the devastation she had caused – his heart was as shattered as the picture frame, and he wondered if she would realize for once what her actions over the past year had done to him.

To them.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his keys off the counter and made his way out the door. The convenience store was just around the corner. He drove as slowly as possible, not in any hurry to return home, and grudgingly purchased what he had previously forgotten. All this over a gallon of fucking milk.

How had his marriage had gone so wrong?

Their relationship had always been a little volatile, but that just seemed to add to the excitement and passion they shared. He understood that Bella's own parents fought often, but apparently that was their way of communicating. His parents' relationship, on the other hand, had always been sweet and loving. There had never been any raised voices or sarcasm.

Why couldn't his marriage be more like the one his parents shared?

Upon his arrival home, he found Bella sitting in the living room, crying quietly. It pained him to see his precious wife so sad.

"Bella, honey, I'm sorry," Edward said. "Look, I have the milk." He held up the carton, hoping she would realize that he truly was apologetic for his forgetfulness.

She remained silent, her huge red-rimmed eyes locking with his, and the anguish in her face, her guilt and sorrow, broke his heart.

"Come on, let's go eat dinner," Edward encouraged as he held out his hand, hoping Bella would reach for him. And she did.

As their hands entwined, the familiar tingling between them pulsed up her arm, into her chest before journeying down to her waist and beyond, causing her to shiver with anticipation. Bella thought about skipping dinner altogether and dragging Edward to their bedroom for some mad, passionate make-up sex, but she was exhausted after their fight. Besides, she had taken the time to cook and she wanted him to enjoy it, so she looked up at him, smiled and walked with him over to the table.

"Everything's delicious," Edward mumbled around his food before swallowing.

Bella was annoyed again; she hated when anyone spoke with food in their mouth. It disgusted her to the point where she lost her appetite. Edward knew this – she had told him often enough. She glared at him, prepared to call him out on his behavior when she realized he was watching her closely. Edward's body language spoke volumes as he prepared himself for another one of her tirades. She swallowed back her frustration, choosing to smile instead. His shocked expression amused her for a moment, until it turned to sadness. Did he truly expect her to turn into a shrew at every transgression?

Did she meet his expectations more often than not?

They ate dinner in awkward silence, not speaking at all as they cleaned up the kitchen and then the broken glass. Although they couldn't put back the pieces of the broken glass and frame, she hoped they would at least be able to salvage the rest of their evening.

She was quickly disappointed.

Edward turned on the television upon entering the living room, and Bella immediately regretted agreeing to the purchase of their new fifty-two inch flat screen TV that hung on the wall. When they'd first gotten married, their evenings were spent in their bedroom, their sanctuary, where they would take the time each night to talk about their day, what made them happy, sad or angry. They had discussed their hopes and dreams before finally joining their bodies. Some nights were consumed with wild, animalistic fucking while others were filled with slow, sweet, loving embraces until they each found ecstasy.

Even now, each night was burning with passion, pure and raw.

Bella missed the time they spent beforehand, just talking. Oh, she could still easily seduce Edward. He would always come running eagerly when he spotted her in one of her tiny negligees, and Bella's lingerie drawer was well stocked. There was no doubt that they could still please each other immensely, but she longed for the tender moments when they just cuddled and talked.

And after tonight's argument, she needed the reassurance of his embrace. She'd heard her parents argue often enough, but everything always seemed fine again the next morning. Her parents were still married after all these years. She never questioned it before, but now Bella wondered for a second if the constant bickering in her own marriage had put Edward off the late night talks, but then decided to squash the thought. He often told her how much he needed her and that he couldn't imagine his life without her.

Everything was just fine.

Right?

Something nagged at the back of her mind, but she dismissed it. She was just tired and annoyed that Edward continued to stare blankly at the basketball game. She was very much aware of what time of the year it was – March Madness. She hadn't lived with her sports fanatic father for all those years to not know these things, but did he really have to watch that now?

Bella walked over to where Edward was sitting on the couch and nuzzled into his side. She sighed in contentment when he curled his arm around her.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we talk?"

"Uh, yeah. In a minute," Edward mumbled without ever taking his eyes off the screen.

Bella tried to be patient and watched as the timer counted down to the end of the second quarter. She knew she'd only have fifteen minutes before the third quarter would start. Bella breathed a sigh of relief when the buzzer sounded, immediately turning to Edward. She knew she would garner his attention as she slowly placed a kiss behind his ear. She heard his breath catch and Edward turned his head toward her.

Before he could respond to her attempt at seduction, Bella felt Edward's phone vibrate in his pocket. She shook her head meaningfully, but he ignored her, leaning away so he could retrieve the phone. Bella quickly glanced at the caller ID. Emmett. Her eyes widened, begging him not to answer, but he held up one finger.

Unable to rein in her anger at this new slight, Bella jumped up off the couch, walked over to the television and slammed her hand on the power button before turning around to glare at him.

"Hey!" Edward shouted.

"Damn it, Edward, is he really more important?" she yelled at him, hurt that he would put his friend before her.

"For fuck's sake, Bella. Gimme just a minute, okay? It's not the end of the world. Ah, fuck. He hung up. Damn it, woman! What the hell is your problem tonight?"

She couldn't take it any more. First the milk and now this. She grabbed her keys on the way to the front door, pausing just long enough to see Edward turn the television back on before she slammed _that _door behind her as well.

Running in her bare feet to her car, wearing only an old pair of shorts and tank top , was not the smartest thing to do, but she didn't care. She almost hoped she'd fall and hurt herself. M aybe then Edward would pay attention to her.

_Who am I kidding?_

Bella spent the next hour driving around town. It had started raining and the temperatures dropped. Bella turned on the car's heater as she tried to warm up, but that was next to impossible. Bella reached for her phone, half expecting Edward to have called, but as she cradled the small blue instrument in her hand, the screen was blank. She knew Edward had either fallen asleep or was much too engrossed in the game to care about her whereabouts.

Emotionally spent and physically exhausted, Bella returned to their brownstone. It didn't feel like home when she pulled up. The house was bathed in darkness.

She ran through the pouring rain, getting drenched in the process and, as she stepped into the house, she saw the light emanating from the television. Edward was lying on the couch, his eyes on the game. He didn't speak nor look at her when she walked by. Saddened, Bella quietly moved toward their bedroom, when his sudden outburst startled her.

"Shit! Damn it! You should've made that shot!"

Tears flooded her eyes as she stumbled towards the bedroom, realizing he was yelling at some unknown player in the game. As she closed their bedroom door, she heard him again.

"Bella?"

Her name came out almost as a question and she wondered who else he would be expecting in their home at this time of the night? Still cold and wet, it didn't take much to antagonize her, and her anger and fury exploded like a geyser.

"Who else were you expecting, Edward?" she sneered, his name sounding like an expletive. "Is that why you can't remember what I need? You have some whore on the side?"

Bella couldn't keep from shrieking, her body shaking uncontrollably as she locked the bedroom door, crumbling to the floor and sobbing hysterically.

He tried the door handle, then knocked.

"Come on, Bella. I'm sorry. Open up," Edward said, knocking again.

"Just go away," Bella cried angrily. "Go back to your stupid game and leave me the hell alone."

"Open the damn door," Edward replied insistently. "I'm _trying _to apologize here."

Deadly silence surrounded them as neither spoke, hoping the other would give in, both too stubborn to admit that they had each played a part in this disastrous night.

"Damn it, Bella. Open this fucking door or I'll break it down!" Edward shouted, furious at his wife. Bella jumped up, pulling the door open with such velocity that it hit the wall behind her before swinging back and smacking her in the ass. She fell forward, right into Edward's outstretched arms.

"Fuck!"

Bella quickly removed herself from his arms, reaching back with one hand to rub her aching ass. Mentally stretched beyond her limit, Bella gave into the overwhelming need to just yell out her frustration.

"Argh!"

"What the fuck?" Edward asked, surprised at the outburst.

"I'm fucking aggravated, Edward, that's what the fuck."

Bella glared angrily. Edward hesitantly reached towards her face to push a piece of hair behind her ear but she smacked his hand away.

"Go back to your game, Edward," Bella said bitterly. "Maybe Emmett will talk with you later," she continued snidely.

"I can't do this anymore," he shouted. "I don't want to fight all the time. What's happened to us?"

"I don't know," she replied quietly, gazing up at her husband who looked so tired, so broken. Bella felt her anger subside. She just wanted his attention and at this point she'd take whatever she could get. Sadness crept over her as she closed her eyes, still longing for an honest conversation, but knowing they were past words. She took a step forward, securing herself to his body, burrowing her head into his chest. His arms tightened around her almost involuntarily, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Edward," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Bella raised her head, searching his face. In the dim light from the television screen, their eyes burned into the other's, and the smoldering embers inside them ignited to a raging fire.

Her hands dove into his hair, pulling him toward her, and their lips met in a searing kiss, open-mouthed, tongues dancing, fueling the passion like throwing oil on a fire. He clutched her to him and moved forward, pushing her back into the bedroom. Clothes flew left and right, until they were both laid bare, chests heaving with panting breaths. Edward scooped up his wife, dropping her unceremoniously onto the bed. Bella bounced once and Edward fell on top of her, capturing her lips again.

Insistent, needy, reaffirming, their mouths and bodies spoke of their love, their passion, their desire even when they couldn't find the words. Edward clutched Bella roughly and spread her legs with his knees, his rock hard shaft entering her slick heat in one powerful stroke, his tongue nipping and laving at the soft mounds of her breasts and the hardened nipples. She opened wide for him, her heels digging into his thighs, pulling him deeper inside until he was seated to the hilt. His hands gripped around her shoulders, holding her to him, devouring her with his mouth, as he began to pound into the wet sheath, skin slapping against skin, their rapid panting, their moans echoing around the room.

Bella's nails dug into his back, her legs wrapping around his hips as he set a punishing pace deep within her, pushing, pulling, lifting her to those great heights until both reached the top of the waves. Bella's inner muscles clamped around his throbbing length. Edward came in three long spurts, shooting his hot seed deep inside her, as her hot channel clenched around him, milking him into oblivion. Falling into sheer ecstasy, they screamed each other's names into the night.

They fell asleep soon after, wrapped closely in each other's arms, their strife over and forgotten.

For now.

Edward woke early the next morning, pressed against Bella's back, his arm clutching her mid-section possessively. He nuzzled his face into her hair for a moment, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo and smiled to himself. Their passion had raged to unknown heights last night, and he could still feel the remnants of the high she had given to him.

Bella sighed in her sleep and burrowed further into his embrace. Edward pressed a kiss to her head, aware that as soon as she woke up, she'd be ravenous. He decided to make breakfast for his wife, wanting to show her how much he loved her even if he hated their fights. Though he had to admit to himself that the make-up sex afterwards was almost worth it.

He rolled out of bed and after a quick stop in the bathroom, made his way to the kitchen, setting the coffee and turning on the machine. While the java brewed, he took a quick shower and dressed, then returned to the kitchen to scramble eggs and make toast, buttering it just the way she liked it. With a cup of coffee finally in hand, Edward checked the clock and realized that it was already past Bella's usual waking time. He put the cup on the counter and, after hurrying to their bedroom, leaned over Bella, gently shaking her.

"Bella, sweetheart, wake up. You're going to be late," he whispered.

"Whaaat?" Bella mumbled, stretching and yawning.

"You need to get up."

As Bella's mind began to stir, she quickly looked over at the clock.

"Shit! Why didn't you wake me?" she screeched, jumping out of bed and running for the shower.

"I was making breakfast," he replied, following her to the bathroom, hoping to settle her down before another fight broke out.

"Great, just great," Bella muttered, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "You're worrying about your stomach and I'm going to be late for work. Terrific."

"I was making _you _breakfast," Edward replied defensively. "You know what, never mind."

He stalked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him before returning, dejectedly, to the kitchen where he cleaned up and left a plate out for her just in case. Not wanting to be around when she tore through the house in her haste to leave, he decided to go to the office early, just for some peace and quiet.

All morning, Bella's ungracious behavior nagged at him, the unconscious scowl on his face keeping his co-workers at bay. He was sitting at his desk with an entirely too expensive coffee shop latte when Emmett called.

"Hey, man," Edward answered the phone listlessly.

"Eddie!" he said with a snicker. "What happened? Figured you'd call me back, but nooo. Silence is all I get. That's no way to treat a friend."

"Yeah, well, sorry...it was a rough night at my house," Edward admitted.

"Bella in another one of her funks?" Emmett inquired knowingly. "Is it that time of month? I know Rose can be a real bitch when the red river's rising. So, what was it this time?"

"Hell if I know. I swear sometimes I feel like she does that shit on purpose." Edward ran his fingers through his hair. "I just don't understand her."

"Well, my friend, they're women. Mysterious creatures. And as such, we poor suckers will never understand them," Emmett laughed loudly. "You guys wanna meet up Friday night? Dinner and the club after?"

"I'll ask Bella when I get home and let you know, okay?"

Emmett agreed and they ended the call. Edward tried to focus on his work again. Around noon, he picked up a message from Bella saying she'd be home late, her tone sarcastic, insinuating that her lateness was his fault. After that, he couldn't concentrate on the work, and left the office early. On his way out, he called her office, only to find out from her assistant that she would be able to leave at her usual time.

Edward smiled to himself. He stopped at the grocery store on the way home, picking up her favorite bottle of wine, two pieces of filet mignon and two lobster tails, hoping to surprise her with a romantic dinner.

Bella had a long, grueling day, made worse by the fact that she had been late. So late in fact that she'd had to leave the breakfast-filled plate on the table, not having time for even a bite. While she appreciated the sentiment, Edward knew she depended on him to wake her – the alarm clock never did. More frustrated than she had been when she'd left that morning, she hoped that Edward would be working late so she could have some time alone to take a calming bath before starting dinner.

Upon opening the door, Bella was assaulted by mouthwatering aromas. Immediately she was suspicious. Edward wasn't expecting her yet – at least he shouldn't be, not for another two or three hours. Jealousy reared its ugly head. She had met the new intern, Victoria, at Edward's office, though she couldn't believe he would be stupid enough to hook up with her and cook a meal for her at their house.

Would he?

Bella tiptoed quietly to the kitchen. Just as she was about to speak, Edward turned around and jumped slightly when he saw her.

"Shit, Bella! You scared me to death!" He moved towards her, his arms outstretched. "Welcome home, love."

"What's going on here?" Bella asked, her voice suspicious.

"Huh?" Edward stopped in his tracks, bewildered. His arms fell to his side. "What does it look like? I'm making dinner."

"No shit, Sherlock," Bella sneered. "My question is, for _whom_?"

"Us?" Edward's answer sounded like a question.

"You weren't expecting me home for another few hours," Bella replied, her voice pitched in anger. "Sell stupid somewhere else!"

Edward could feel the rage bubble up inside him. He just didn't understand his wife. After the shitty start to their day, he'd only wanted to please her, hoping to avoid a repeat performance of the previous night. Instead, she greeted him with an unfounded accusation of infidelity.

So much for that. Edward's heart sank to his stomach and was instantly engulfed in fiery anger.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," he replied furiously. "Every damn time I try to do something nice, I get bitched out. No more. I've had it! I'm done!"

Edward roughly pushed past Bella and ran to their bedroom. From the closet, he pulled out a large duffel bag and randomly stuffed jeans and shirts inside. He plucked a few boxers from his drawer, some socks, then made his way to the bathroom for his toothbrush.

"What are you doing?" Bella asked, surprise in her voice and in her eyes. Edward glared at her from the bathroom door.

"What does it look like?" he raged. "I'm leaving. I've had enough of this shit. Always yelling, always fighting. It's over. We're fucking over. You fucked with my mind once too many."

"But...but...you can't leave me..." Bella stuttered, shocked at his actions, his words, his angry tone of voice.

"Watch me, my dear wife. I can...and I will. I've put up with your shit for too long."

Still furious, he walked out of the bedroom they shared and grabbed his jacket from the couch, his keys and his phone, walking out the door without even a look back.

Bella followed him outside and down the stairs. She was flabbergasted at his outburst.

"Edward?"

No response.

"Edward," she called out. "Where are you going?"

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned around to face her, his expression angry and hurt. "None of your fucking business."

He turned away from her and quickly walked toward his car.

"What?" She was stunned.

As she looked at his retreating figure, a tiny raindrop fell from the sky, landing on her cheek, then another. It was as if the sky was crying for her. Unable to move, she watched him walk away, her heart shattering where she stood.

"Edward, wait! I'm sorry. Please, don't leave me!" she shouted, anguish piercing her heart. Tears were streaming down her face. Bella ran down the sidewalk toward him. Her suede pumps were ruined by the rain, but she didn't care. Her only concern was stopping him. When he got to his car, he turned around.

His lifeless eyes crushed her hopes and stopped her in mid-stride. There was no light in them anymore. She gasped. Edward fiddled with the collar of his coat, his skin ghostly white under the street lights, a sharp contrast to the dark fabric.

"I'm sorry, too, Bella. I just can't live like this anymore." Edward's shoulders slumped forward, resigning himself to their fate. "This is not what I expected my marriage to be. Not like this. I just can't take it anymore. I'll...call you."

"Edward...please...what am I supposed to do without you?" Bella cried, her arms reaching for him.

Edward was so very tempted to stay as he looked into her flushed, tear-stained face. The all-consuming love he felt for Bella hadn't diminished, and his heart was constricting in pain at the thought of living without her. At this point, though, he felt unable to reconcile that love with her treatment of him.

But God, how he loved her.

As if pulled by invisible strings, he took a step towards her, then thought better of it as he turned away and got in his car.

"I don't know...and I don't know that I care," he muttered under his breath as he closed the door on his wife and his marriage. Pain and loss spread through him and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. He still loved her – he always would.

There was no Edward without Bella.

But his wife was also a complete nutcase, and there was just nothing left for him there at their home, only heartbreak and anger. He drove away, his teeth clenched against the salty liquid that threatened to spill from his eyes.

*****

Bella couldn't stop her tears from falling as she watched the rear lights fade into the darkness.

Then there was nothing, except the soft patter of the rain.

Bella fell to her knees, unable to return to the house, their home. The rain continued to drench her, but she didn't care. She tried to convince herself that it was just a bad dream – one she couldn't wake up from. But she was wide awake.

And she was alone.

Edward's final words kept running through her mind. She tried to clear her head, but all she felt was the sheer panic that welled up inside. Edward had never left before. Not like this. He had _never_ packed a bag before. His leaving tonight seemed so final – it was hard for Bella to wrap her head around it. The expression on his face, sorrow and anguish, utter heartbreak, was burning like a raging fire in her mind.

The nagging thought that she might have driven him away was overwhelming. She thought of her parents' marriage, remembering the oft occurring, loud arguments, but even after the greatest shouting matches, her parents had been quick to make up. She knew they loved each other passionately, and she knew that their fights were not a reflection on the strength of their bond and their marriage.

She also knew that Edward's parents had a very different kind of relationship, and that his growing up years had not exposed him to the same things she was used to.

Bella pondered over her attitude and her actions during the course of the past year. If she was honest with herself, her quick rages, her unfounded accusations, could be construed as the actions of the clichéd nagging wife. Edward always tried so hard to please her, but until now, Bella had never looked past the tip of her nose to see what her behavior was doing to him.

She had never doubted herself before. There always seemed to be someone else, some circumstance, something outside of herself to blame for their fights, but now she wasn't so sure.

The ugly truth slapped her in the face.

_She_ was to blame, she had driven him away. She had made his life so unbearable that his only way to cope was to run away from her.

With that realization, though the pain nearly crushed her, Bella knew that it was now up to her to convince him that she could change. That she would change, for him, for them. She would do whatever it took to make him believe in her again.

He_ would _believe her.

Right?

She took a deep breath, and picked herself up off the sidewalk. The short trek back to their brownstone seemed to go on and on, the sidewalk stretched out in front of her forever.

Bella refused to succumb to the anguish that began to creep through her, breaking down piece by piece the last vestiges of hope that she clung to, as if her life depended on it.

He'd told her they'd never be apart.

He had promised to love her until the end of their days.

Although she was consumed with despair, Bella still believed.

Edward would come back to her.

Right?

******

As Edward drove away, he refused to look in the rearview mirror because there was no going back. As much as he loved Bella, he couldn't continue the life they had created. He could no longer live with the constant bickering, relentless fighting and he knew if he stayed, he'd only end up hating her. He didn't want that. He didn't believe he'd ever find anyone else, but he'd rather live alone than with the constant pain.

It wasn't until he pulled up into the driveway of his childhood home that he realized how far he had driven. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts that the car seemed to drive itself. He hadn't been home in a few weeks, not since Easter, and then only for the afternoon.

Although still angry at Bella and hurt by what she had insinuated, he didn't want her to worry about him so he decided to send her a text message. He didn't want to give her false hope, but he loved her enough to want to put her mind at ease.

_Bella, I'm at my parents' house. I'll be here for a while. I'll contact you to work out the details._

He didn't have the heart to tell her what details they'd need to work out and if he was honest, he was having a difficult time with the word divorce himself. He shook his head sadly, deciding to leave his bag in the car for now. He didn't want his mother to worry. She'd never understand what he was going through. Oh, she would listen and support him, but her marriage to his father was what he had always dreamed his own marriage would be.

Edward walked slowly up the steps to the front door. The house was dark. Getting the spare key from its usual hiding place, he let himself in.

"Mom? Dad? Are you guys home?"

No one answered, the house was unusually quiet.

Edward walked through the darkened downstairs rooms, but found no one. Maybe they'd gone out to dinner, or another of the charitable functions they often attended. His father was terribly busy, but he always made time for his wife. Edward had tried to emulate that, but Bella never seemed to appreciate it.

As he walked past his parents' open bedroom, he heard a noise, a muffled cry. He slowly knocked, peering around the door and was absolutely stunned by what he saw.

His mother was lying on her side, seemingly asleep, and there was an almost empty bottle of Belvedere on the nightstand. Edward blinked at the sight. It felt as if his world was careening out of control. His mother never drank any hard liquor, preferring wine or champagne, and then imbibed only rarely. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her with even just a glass of champagne in her hand. What the hell was going on? Where was his father?

Confused, he stumbled forward, steadying himself on the dresser, and one of his mother's perfume bottles swayed and fell onto the floor, shattering as the contents exploded around him.

His mother sat up, startled at the noise and his presence.

"Edwaahd?" she mumbled almost incoherently. "Whaddaya doin' here?" Her eyes were glassy and her voice was slurred.

"Mom, what's going on? Where's Dad? Why are you drinking?" Edward was in shock. He had never seen his mother drunk.

"Aw, fuck," he thought he heard her mutter under her breath, but he convinced himself quickly that he obviously needed his ears cleaned. His mother did not cuss.

Ever.

"Sweetie, come siddown," Edward's mother mumbled, sighing as she patted the mattress. "I think we nee' talk."

Edward cringed at the stench of alcohol emanating from her, but he wouldn't refuse her. The broken perfume on the floor mixed with the smell of the alcohol, cloying in his nose, and Edward nearly gagged.

"Let me clean this up first, Mom, okay?"

"Fuck it," was her slurred reply.

Incredulous at her words, Edward stared at his mother. She was always so prim and proper. He blinked again, stunned into silence. It took him a moment to find his voice.

"I'm just going to take care of the broken glass, okay?" Edward insisted.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. Just use this," she yelled with frustration, throwing a blanket at him. "Now, come sit down."

Edward quickly used the blanket to absorb as much liquid as possible, while taking care to sweep together the shards of glass. He heard his mother sigh again so decided he'd done the best he could under the circumstances.

Meanwhile, she seemed to have sobered up a bit, her words more coherent than before. It made him wonder how frequently she had been drinking. Edward padded over to the bed and sat down awkwardly.

"Come here, honey," Elizabeth said, pulling him into a hug. "Now, tell me what you're doing here? Why aren't you home with Bella?"

She looked at him expectantly, and Edward let the pain bubble out of his chest.

"I left her," he stammered as the tears began streaming down his face. "Mom, I can't live like that anymore. It seems like every day we fight about stupid shit, stuff that's inconsequential, and it's killing me. I don't want to fight like that, I don't want to dread coming home, not knowing what's gonna set her off this time, or what mood she's gonna be in."

Edward began sobbing. "We end up shouting and yelling and being so angry, and I hate it. I love her, Mom....I love her so much, but I want my marriage to be like yours. You guys never fight... "

He broke off when he heard his mother snort and pulled back, astonished. Her face was pulled into a scowl and it reminded him so much of Bella, that he instinctively prepared himself for another chastisement. Elizabeth saw him cringe away and smiled at him apologetically.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry. To be honest with you, I'm glad that your marriage is nothing like mine. That is all I ever wanted for you."

Edward gaped at his mother open-mouthed.

"Wh...what??" he fumbled around the word, utterly flabbergasted at her statement.

His mother sighed, then reached for his hand to squeeze it softly. "I think it's time you heard the truth."

And so it began.

Edward's mother told him all the sordid details, the real story of his parents' marriage. Although his parents _appeared _happy, they hadn't been for years, only maintaining the façade when Edward was around. He wanted to lie down and die when he learned that beneath the surface of his parents' perfect marriage, there were many cracks. Apparently, his father had cheated on his mother for years. She had known just as long, but chose to ignore the repeated infidelities, finding solace in spending money on spa trips, new cars, fancy designer clothes, jewelry – the list seemed endless. In order to stave off her loneliness, she involved herself in charities and various women's clubs, always forcing a happy smile on her face.

Edward couldn't believe what he was hearing. His mind was reeling. He felt like his entire life had been a sham. It had all been a fucking lie. And he had left Bella _because_ of that lie. He ran from her because he wanted what she didn't seem capable of giving him – his parents' loving, happy marriage. Only to find out that this epitome of what he thought he wanted didn't exist.

Not at all.

His world screeched to a halt, and everything distorted in a most heinous fashion. In light of this discovery, he was going to have to take a long, hard look at his own marriage.

"Edward, honey, I never wanted you to find out," Elizabeth said, sobered by the broken expression on Edward's face. "I know what Bella's like, and I know what she grew up with. Charlie and Renee's marriage is solid. Yes, they fight – quite a lot – but they truly love each other. _That's_ what I wanted for you, and I hoped that you would find that with Bella. There's no love left between your father and I. Hell, most of the time, we don't even talk to each other. I don't see him for days on end, unless there's some function or other going on. My marriage has turned into one of convenience. Is that what you want for yourself?"

Edward thought of the accusation Bella had hurled at him, right before he had left. He was certain she hadn't meant it. He didn't cheat. She knew that, and he was sure that what she had insinuated had been out of anger, and perhaps fear. It was feasible to him that she was afraid to lose him to another woman, and that her angry display had been simple jealousy.

He was familiar with that emotion. Bella's beauty had always incited the attention of other men, and it had taken him quite a while to believe that she was never interested in anyone but him. On the other hand, he had never been, and never would be, unfaithful to her, especially in light of what he had just learned. He knew deep down in his heart that Bella had never strayed, either.

Even with all their faults, their marriage was honest and real. Edward could see that now. He had always believed in their feelings. What they had was not a lie. He had not forgotten what had sent him packing in the first place, but at least their fights _were_ a form of communication. There were no secrets between them. Although he hated the bickering and sarcasm, it was still preferable to what he had just learned existed between his parents.

"No, I don't want that," he whispered haltingly, unable to stem the tears spilling from his eyes. Embarrassed, he wiped his hand across his face. His mother smiled weakly, her own eyes shining with tears.

Edward thought about Bella's parents. It was obvious that Renee and Charlie, despite their bickering, loved each other. To an outsider, they didn't seem to have the perfect marriage, but he could see now how honest and alive their relationship was. And while he still didn't like the fighting and the screaming, he thought that it might be possible for him and Bella to find a middle ground. He realized that he wasn't willing to give up on her. And just like that, he knew what he had to do.

"Thanks, Mom," he stated, his voice again strong with steely resolve. "I can't say that this wasn't a shock, but I really appreciate your honesty."

"Maybe I should have told you sooner," she replied sorrowfully. "But you have to understand, Edward – I'm ashamed of my marriage, and I didn't want you to look at me or your father any differently."

"Oh, Mom," Edward said, smiling through his tears. "I love you. That won't ever change. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Elizabeth smiled and caressed his face. "I'll be fine. Love your wife, Edward, and be happy and loved yourself. Bella does love you, son. That's all I've ever wanted for you."

******

Upon entering the house, Bella fell apart and collapsed on the floor. She didn't care that she was soaked, that she could get sick. She had no desire to move. Bella had never felt so lost and alone. Although she had tried extremely hard to convince herself that it was inevitable that Edward would return, on the floor in the living room, Bella was no longer certain. The whole house felt empty without him, the lack of his presence seeping into every corner of their home.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bella forced herself off the floor, shedding her shoes and clothing where she stood. As she walked past the dining room and saw the beautifully set table, a sob escaped her throat. Bella stumbled, clutched her chest and realized what a huge mistake she had made. Perhaps the biggest mistake of her life. The stupidity of her ridiculous accusation slammed into her like a Mack truck. She knew he'd never cheat.

He loved _her_.

He had been cooking dinner for _her_, and she had taken his sweet and thoughtful gesture and turned it into something horrible, a reaction so unfathomable that it burned in the pit of her stomach.

Bella was ashamed and completely devastated. She had managed to push away and alienate her one true love, with her bickering, her selfishness, her outrageous accusations. She couldn't remember the last time she had thanked him for his thoughtfulness. When she looked back on her atrocious behavior, she was surprised Edward hadn't left her sooner.

The unfinished dinner in the kitchen stared at her accusingly, reminding her of all the love and thought he'd put into his plan and she had, with one sarcastic, bitter, insecure comment, ruined everything.

Bella forced herself to examine what she knew about her marriage and how similar it was to that of her parents. While the volatility in her marriage was not a problem to Bella, she could finally see how unhappy it had made Edward. Unlike her, he hadn't grown up this way. And yet, she had subconsciously expected him to understand without explanation, and simply get used to it.

She finally had to admit to herself that all her yelling and bitching had driven him away.

By the time Bella had dismantled the dinner that would never be, hours had passed. She had been too terrified to look at her phone, longing for Edward to call, but certain that he wouldn't. And she would give him the time and space he needed. But the anguish that crept through her as she finally reached for the small blue phone made her hand shake, and when she picked it up, it felt like a brick in her fingers. She was barely holding on. Bella held her breath when she realized there was a text message.

She quickly read what he had sent her, and her breath got stuck in her throat.

_Bella, I'm at my parents' house. I'll be here for a while. I'll contact you to work out the details._

She tried to console herself that at least she now knew where he was. He was safe. The last part of the message sent Bella's anguished mind into overdrive, his insinuation of a possible divorce making her head swim.

"No!" Bella screamed into the silence, sudden agony ripping a rapidly expanding hole into her heart. Just the thought was too painful to contemplate.

She could no longer deny that she was, in large part, to blame for why he had left. Bella couldn't remember the last time she had really apologized to Edward for her actions and meant it, and the thought sent her into a new tailspin of crushing guilt. The floodgates opened again, and she stumbled blindly to the bedroom, collapsing on the bed and clutching his pillow to her, finding borrowed solace in his scent that clung to the fabric.

Little by little, with each beat of her broken heart, she found strength inside her that she didn't know she had. As the promise of dawn rose over the city, Bella came to a decision. She would fight for her marriage, for Edward. She thought it was ironic that she would _fight _to keep her marriage, while at the same time determined to _not _fight with Edward.

Bella knew she couldn't change her behavior overnight, and certainly not on her own. It was too ingrained to be corrected without the help of a professional. She had always thought that counseling was for people unable to get it together themselves.

Bella realized that she was now one of those people. She had some serious things to straighten out within herself. It was time for her to grow up.

She resolved to call Edward as soon as was possible and beg him to consider couple's therapy. After the horrible night she had spent alone, she was willing to do whatever it took to save her marriage and be what Edward needed, and she hoped against hope that he would give her that chance.

She hoped that he still loved her just as much as she loved him.

*****

Edward looked at his mother, who after their talk had fallen asleep and was most likely down for the night. She seemed so lost, so broken. Frustrated, he asked himself how he had missed all the signs. He was angry at his father for treating her so terribly, and upset with his mother for not telling him the truth sooner.

In the midst of the mess that was his married life, he now felt abandoned by the two people who had raised him. He didn't know what to believe in anymore.

After he had made his way upstairs, he lay awake in his old bed, unable to sleep, thinking about what he would do in the morning. He was nearly certain that by leaving Bella like he did, he had lost her. He had, after all, broken his promise that they would never be apart. He could only hope that she could forgive him for his rash actions that evening. And if she did, he would show her every single day for the rest of his life just how much he loved and cherished her.

Clinging to that tiny sliver of hope, he watched the sun come up slowly, bathing his room in golden beams of light. It was time. He jumped out of bed and ran to his car, driving home speedily, not willing to wait another moment to make good on the promise he had made to himself.

He would accept his wife the way she was – faults and all. He loved her. She loved him. There was no greater truth. In the light of the new day, that truth was all that mattered to him. No longer was he pining after perfection. Edward had, seemingly overnight, grown up.

It was barely morning when Edward found himself facing the front door of the home he shared with his wife. After having left, he wasn't sure whether or not she would even want to see him. After all, the ill-advised text message he'd sent to Bella could have been interpreted as him asking for a divorce. He stared at the door, hesitant to just walk in.

******

Bella hadn't slept a wink. Dressing quickly in her old, ratty sweats, she had decided to call into the office and ask for a sick day, needing the time to contact Edward and try to work things out with him. As she entered the living room, the pile of wet clothes she had left on the floor near the door caught her eyes. Her shoes were ruined, as was her suit. Everything had begun to smell from sitting in the pile where she'd left them the night before.

Wrinkling her nose, she picked up the sodden clothes and was about to walk to the laundry room when she heard a noise outside the door, the sound making her think of her husband's familiar steps. Bella whirled around, dropping the wet suit where she stood. In her haste, she stumbled and fell to her knees.

"Edward," she whispered, hope surging in her heart but she squashed it immediately. There was absolutely no way that he was there at their door. She stood up slowly and walked to the door.

Pulling in a long breath of air, she reached for the handle and wrenched the door open, coming face-to-face with her husband, his fist raised as if he were about to knock. Their eyes locked. Neither had the breath to speak, both afraid and anxious of what the other might say.

"Bella," he finally whispered, desperation and love shining from deep within his soul.

"Edward," she breathed as the tears formed in her eyes. He opened his arms for her and she fell into him, clinging to his hard body, wrapping him in her love, her sorrow, her forgiveness.

"Baby, I'm so sor..." he started to speak as he let himself feel her soft body against his and burrowed his head into the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweetness of her skin.

"Shh," Bella replied into his chest, cutting off his apology, overwhelmed by his familiar scent and his warmth and the fact that he was there, in her arms, that he had come back to her. "It's okay. We're okay. You're here now."

They both exhaled.

* * *

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